Cheshire Summer
by ShieldFeather
Summary: Aster Thorne is sixteen and not thrilled about spending her Summer in Holmes Chapel with her Grandma Iris. But as she explores the town and sets off on this new adventure, she'll meet people who will change her. Harry Styles is a boy she doesn't understand and can't forget.
1. Chapter 1

Aster Thorne peered out the window of her grandmother's Volvo wagon as they cruised along the streets of Holmes Chapel. The sky was overcast and the streets were all wet, but Aster thought it was beautiful here. She had never been to England, and the old architecture was like a breath of fresh air. The lights inside of the shops emitted a warm yellow glow, making her feel cozy inside.  
"Everything is so charming compared to home," Aster commented as they passed by Brown's Book Tavern, which she made a mental note to visit later.  
Her grandmother, Iris, laughed. "I just hope you still think so in a few weeks."  
The comment didn't instill much hope in Aster. She was trying to be positive, but what _would_ she do this summer? After the novelty of being surrounded by rich history had worn off, after she'd seen all the cool buildings, what was left? Drinking hot tea and embroidering a cushion?  
The car had just turned onto Brookfield Drive.  
"Ah, here we are," said Grandma Iris as they pulled in the driveway. Aster eyed the red brick cottage that was to be her home for the summer.  
"See the window at the top?" asked Grandma Iris. "That's your room."

Aster climbed the steep stairs to the top floor. The bedroom was very plain, but it was spacious, and the window let in a lot of light. She set her bags down and collapsed onto the bed. The time change and the dreary weather had her all out of sorts. Her mind wandered back to the U.S...  
In Georgia it was probably sunny and perfect for reading a magazine by the pool. By the end of this week, Aster could've achieved a nice tan. Funny how a long airplane ride could transport her back into winter. She sighed, and a gloomy mood set in. It wasn't fair.

It had been a year since Aster's grandfather passed away, and her parents thought Grandma Iris could use some company, so they'd shipped Aster off to Cheshire for two and a half months. When it was first mentioned, Aster was angry. It's not that she didn't like her Grandma Iris, but she didn't know her very well. Growing up across an ocean from her grandparents meant she could count on two hands how many times she'd seen them. Plus, she was sixteen and had just gotten her driver's license. This summer was going to be her first taste of sweet freedom. It was going to be a long and hot one in Georgia, and Aster was looking forward to floating on an inner tube in the lake, sipping sweat tea, and rocking away on the front porch while the fireflies danced in the yard. The fourth of July would come, and there'd be barbecue and fireworks. And then maybe, when the sun went down, her crush Austin Martin would kiss her on a picnic blanket beneath the stars. Now _that_ would make a perfect summer. But it wouldn't come true.

Glancing around at the empty walls, some pictures on a shelf above the desk caught Aster's eye. She got up to look at them. There were many: pictures of her as a young girl, pictures of her parents, and pictures of Grandpa Bill. Aster picked up the black and white one of him and Grandma Iris when they were young. They were sitting at a pub somewhere, but their arms were around one another and their foreheads were pressed together with smiles on their faces. Grandpa was handsome. Grandma was gorgeous. And love looked good on them.  
Aster felt a smile cross her face. She thought again of the circumstance that brought her here. She was being very selfish. She suddenly noticed how quiet it was. And lonely. No, Grandma Iris did not need to be alone like this.  
"It's going to be a good summer," she said aloud to herself. That's it. Positive Affirmation. If she said it enough times, she would start believing it, right?  
And again. "It's going to be a good summer... a GREAT summer.. or winter, whichever season England thinks it is. It'll be good."  
Then Grandma Iris yelled up, "Tea's ready, my love!"  
Aster set the picture back on the shelf. "Coming!" she called back.


	2. Chapter 2

After a couple days of recovering from jet lag, Aster was ready to get out of the house. Drinking hot tea really wasn't the style of a Southern girl who liked sipping on Arnold Palmer's. And neither was the dreary weather here, for that matter.  
"Would you like to join me for bridge today?" Grandma Iris asked. "My usual partner's got ill."  
As much fun as that did not sound, Aster was willing to oblige. At least it was _something _to do. But after one dreadfully long round, Grandma Iris and her friends exclaimed that it was a nice warm up, and were about to deal again. Luckily for Aster, who had heard quite enough about denture glue and hemorrhoids, Grandma Iris' friend Dolores had just walked in the door.  
"Oh Dolores, we've already started..."  
"No, no. That's alright. Dolores can have my spot," chimed in Aster.  
"Oh, I'd hate to intrude," Dolores said politely.  
"Not at all. I insist." Aster stood up and held out the chair for Dolores to sit down. And then she was throwing on her jacket and making a dash for the door. "I'll be home for dinner!"  
"Be careful, love!" Grandma Iris said just as the door of the community center closed.  
Aster breathed in the cool air. She still wasn't quite used to it. In Georgia in June, it was no less than 90 degrees every day. And though she had only been three days here, Aster briefly wondered if she was going to see the sun in a perfectly blue sky again. Her eye immediately caught the only blue thing on this street, and that was the sign to Brown's Book Tavern. Perfect. She would start her journey there.

A bell rang when Aster pushed open the heavy blue door. Brown's Book Tavern was warm and stuffy inside; it smelled of mildew and new books mixed perfectly with cinnamon. The shelves lining the walls and forming rows down the middle of the store were at maximum capacity. Excess hardbacks and paperbacks were stacked on the ground, and some of the piles were higher than Aster was tall. She was overwhelmed by the magic of the place, but also afraid that she would move her elbow wrong and one of the stacks would come crashing down.  
"Can I help you find anything?" a boy with brown hair asked from the counter. He was sitting on a stool behind the register with his eyes glued to his iPad.  
"No, thanks. I'm just looking," Aster replied. But the boy looked up at her suspiciously. Now she could see that he was somewhere near her age, and rather cute. He put down the iPad and stood up, tall and thin.  
"Where did you get an accent like that?" he asked.  
Aster laughed. "In America."  
"Where in America?"  
"Georgia."  
The boy nodded. "I've never met anyone from Georgia. Aren't you supposed to speak with a Southern drawl? That's what my mum told me."  
"Well my mom is from Kansas, and my dad is from New York, so.. they don't talk that way. I guess I never picked it up."  
"I see," said the boy, "But what brings you to Holmes Chapel? Wouldn't you rather be in London? I mean, if I came all the way from America to Britain, I know I wouldn't waste my time here."  
"My grandma lives here. I'm staying with her for the summer."  
"OH!" He hit his hand on the counter. "You're Iris' granddaughter!"  
"Yes, that's right. My name is Aster Thorne." She held out her hand.  
"Will Sweeny. It's a pleasure to meet you," he said, taking it. "And just so you know, we've got the_Twilight_ saga ten percent off today."  
"Well, Will. I'm slightly offended," Aster teased.  
"Edward Cullen not really your cup o' tea?"  
"Alright, I admit I read the first two, but no! Not really at all." Aster said with a smile.  
"Well then follow me, Aster. I have loads of recommendations."

So Aster spent the next hour following Will Sweeny around the shop. She discovered that he was seventeen, and he couldn't wait to get out of Holmes Chapel. Of course it wasn't all bad. He played the drums for a band he'd started with some of his school mates. He worked here in the summer because he was saving up for a car. And all the while he talked, he piled book after book into her arms, told her all about their borrowing program and customer loyalty cards. And at last he sat her down in one of the shabby red wingback chairs with a cup of tea to read _Persuasion_.  
In the end, Aster left with two borrowed books and an invitation to Will's band's show on Thursday night. She was excited to have made a new friend. And it seemed like Will would be able to introduce her to anyone and everyone her age around this town. She walked home happily, and told Grandma Iris all about her day.  
"Will is such a nice young man," said Grandma Iris. "And he likes books. I certainly approve of that. He's a smart boy."  
"And he's in a band!" beamed Aster. But this wasn't as exciting to Grandma Iris.  
"Let's just hope he doesn't go tattooing himself all up or bleaching his hair like the young blokes are doing now."  
Aster laughed on the inside. She might not agree with Grandma Iris, but she wouldn't have her any other way. She decided to humor her.  
"Yes, Gram, I certainly hope not."


	3. Chapter 3

On Thursday, Aster woke up early to finish unpacking her things. She tried to sort her clothes neatly in the wardrobe, but most of them wound up on the floor in front of the full length mirror, where she'd been trying on combinations of everything she owned. She needed a cute outfit for the concert tonight, but nothing worked.  
"It just has to be chic and edgy and different," Aster complained to her grandmother over lunch.  
"That seems quite a lot to ask of clothes."  
"If you had wifi, I could youtube a British beauty guru and get some style tips," Aster hinted. She'd been begging her grandmother to get internet since her arrival. Realizing she couldn't communicate with her friends over Facebook was a hard pill to swallow. Facebook was the best way to stay in the loop with her friends back home, because the time difference made phone calls difficult to schedule.  
"But if you'd been sitting up there on the internet since you arrived, you wouldn't have been invited to the concert tonight, would you?" Grandma Iris asked. And that was the end of the internet discussion for today.

At eight o'clock, Aster was finally ready for the show. She took a glance at herself in the mirror. It had been a grueling day of getting ready, because Aster preferred to be laid-back and comfortable rather than a trendy fashionista. In fact, it was usually her goal to look like a hippie. Picking out clothes was a task that proved quite difficult at times. But today, she'd painted her nails red, applied black eye liner, and achieved the perfect wavy hairdo. Still, what she spent four hours doing looked no better than what she usually spent thirty minutes doing.  
"I guess this is as good as it gets," she told her reflection. For her outfit, she'd settled on a pair of dark skinny jeans and an oversized gray sweater worn off one shoulder. She piled on her collection of vintage rings, now including a turquoise one Grandma Iris had given her, and slid on her black studded flats.  
"You look great," Grandma Iris told her as she stood at the bottom of the stairs. "Just like your mother, especially in the eyes."  
To look like her mother was a compliment. Aster's mother was an elegant woman who never had a hair out of place. But she was prissier than her daughter would ever be. Still, Aster was grateful to have inherited her big brown eyes and olive skin tone, which lent her a nice tan when there was sun enough to have one. Unlike her mother's soft golden locks, though, Aster had thick brown hair with a tendency to be frizzy in humid weather. It had caused her grief throughout middle school, but she finally had styling it down to an art. With the right tools and a thorough coating of hairspray, hopefully the frizz would be kept at bay tonight.  
"Okay, I'll be home by midnight," Aster said.  
"Are you sure you don't want me to drive you?" asked Grandma Iris.  
"It's only a block away. I promise I won't talk to any strangers." She tried to sound confident, but she had butterflies in her stomach.  
Grandma Iris laughed. "There are no strangers in this town, dear."

And that proved to be quite true. Even Aster wasn't a stranger to the locals of Holmes Chapel. Will was standing outside of Sector Six smoking a cigarette when Aster arrived.  
"Aster! So glad you could make it," he called out.  
"Is that the American?" a boy with bleached spiky hair asked. He held out his hand, and Aster noticed his many bracelets all said White Eskimo. "The name's Nick."  
Nick had a firm handshake and was also tall and thin like Will Sweeny. Of everyone she'd seen so far, Nick definitely looked the most eccentric, like a guy who wasn't afraid of who he was.  
"Hi, Nick. I'm Aster, nice to meet you."  
"Whoa, your accent is wicked," he laughed. "Would you like a bracelet?" Nick slid a black one off his wrist and handed it to Aster. And then he yelled over to some girls standing in a group a few yards away. "Oy! Molly, Anne, come and meet Aster."  
Molly had black hair with a hot pink streak toward the front. She was small and had on a White Eskimo teeshirt, and the first thing she said to Aster was, "I see you know my boyfriend." Then she gave Aster the up-down.  
Aster was taken back by Molly's rudeness. "No, I just met him now," she replied.  
"Well I've heard all about you," Molly said. "Iris Thorne's granddaughter, right?" There was something accusing and defensive in her voice, and Aster didn't like it.  
"That's right," she nodded, and then looked to the girl standing just behind Molly. "I think Nick called you Anne? I'm Aster, it's great to meet you."  
Anne was very timid, and her handshake was very light. She acted surprised that Aster was even speaking to her, and it seemed like Molly probably controlled her. Either way, the girls did not ask Aster to come stand with them or introduce her to any of their friends, and Aster was invited inside by Will Sweeny.  
"Don't mind Molly," Will said to her as they descended the narrow staircase into the club. It was dark and damp, but the atmosphere was buzzing with teenagers. "She's really protective of Nick, but it's Harry she really has it out for.."  
Aster didn't know who Harry was, but she was sure Nick deserved better from his girlfriend. And she was starting to realize that the teenagers here weren't so different from the ones back home. She only wondered where she would fit in on the food chain.

Will got Aster a drink and then dismissed himself for warm-up. The band was going on in fifteen minutes. Aster stood in the crowd, eyeing Molly and her posse at the front of the stage. And when White Eskimo came on, they went crazy screaming. There were two additional members of the band that Aster hadn't met. One boy had curly brown hair and a cute face. He was the lead singer, and his presence was quite charming. The other boy played guitar and had shaggy dirty-blonde hair. Nick was on bass, and Will was on drums. They mostly played covers like _Summer of 69_ and _Jenny Don't Be Hasty_, but they had a good sound, and Aster enjoyed the show.  
Afterwards, Will introduced her to the rest of his bandmates.  
"This is Haydn," he said of the shaggy-headed boy. Haydn seemed very sweet and easy-going. And then there was the lead singer.  
"And this is Harry Styles."


End file.
